Communication
by Cazuki
Summary: 'Communication is 10% words and 90% actions'. There are some moments when you don't need to make a sound to express the deepest and richest of human emotions. PruCan. May create new chapters. Please R&R.


**Friendship**

 **-Matthew-**

Sometimes, I don't know why I even bother. I sigh, letting my body slump onto the World Meeting desk. My forehead makes contact with the cool lacquered surface and I let it rest there, closing my eyes to focus my mind.

In the background, the drone of sounds continues and, slowly, I begin to identify them. People are tapping pens on the table-top, sometimes beating to the rhythm of a song and sometimes not. Other people are speaking; whispering, shouting, arguing. I can't focus on what they're saying though. Yet more people are making more discreet, less noticeable sounds. Squeaking chairs, quiet coughs, grunts and mumbles. All these individual notes combine together to create the discordant symphony that is the World Meeting. And I'm sick to death of it.

I can't be the only person here who is questioning how we can make so many sounds and yet fail to communicate anything. Take this meeting, for example. Up at the front, Germany and America are having a fierce debate about the utility, or lack thereof, of committing world resources to the advancement of developing robotics. Every time one of them speaks, the words just seem to ghost past the other and the debate goes nowhere. Or, take me. Despite popular opinion, I do have things to say and I do speak; a lot, actually. But no-one seems to understand what I'm saying. I'm just a shadow to most people, floating my way through life and sometimes I'm confronted with the idea that no matter what I say or how loudly I say it, no-one will ever hear what I have to say.

Of course, I quickly try and shut away the idea, stuff it into a box and try and think that if I just say it better people will eventually understand me. But, then I think, if the spoken language cannot be used to communicate, then what good is it in the first place?

Just as I think this, I feel something. At first, I think I'm dreaming, but then I feel it again. Someone's foot is tapping my ankle. I shift my foot away from the contact, supposing that it's just someone shuffling in their seat and in the process accidently hitting my leg. However, it happens again, only a few seconds later. I realize that someone is trying to get my attention and I shift my head, my chin now resting on my arms as I look across the table, one eyebrow bent upwards and a questioning look in my eyes.

Across the table, decked out in a deep, navy blue suit is a man with white and red eyes. Prussia, or Gilbert as he prefers to be called nowadays, looks back at my questioning expression and responds with his own signature smirk, his eyes flashing momentarily. I'm about to ask what he wants, but before I can he taps his finger on the desk lightly to draw my attention further onto him and then points at his brother, Germany, at the head of the large desk. I look over at Germany, my face scrunching up slightly as my confusion deepens. Germany isn't facing me, so I can tell it isn't because I had missed something he'd said to me. I look back at Prussia and see that now he is making someone other kind of signal. This time he's swaying his head back and forth, his eyes wandering and his mouth flapping without making a sound. His hands are in front of him, opening and shutting like a crab's claws. It's a childish way to express it, but I immediately understand that he's bored of his brother's rantings.

I smile, feeling the corners of my mouth upturn slightly. I suddenly feel much better, though I can't place my finger on why. I decide to try and continue the conversations, nodding my head to show I agreed with him. I then repeated his previous action, tapping my finger on the desk and pointing at the head of the desk. Instead of Germany, however, I point at my brother America. Prussia catches on quickly and pre-emptively grins, waiting for my action. I decide to hold my arm out, cupping my hand as if gripping a microphone and then proceed and with the other hand proceed to make wild gestures, pointing at nothing in particular and beating my chest alternatively to show my self-importance. I scrunched my expression, moving my moth soundlessly while my eyebrows knit together to make a very serious expression. Prussia starts to smile more, his face dimpling as he shakes slightly with his contained laughter. I smile back and for a while we just look at each other, smiling and occasionally pointing at someone else and making more silly expressions.

By the end of it, the meeting is already being called to a close and I feel like I've just had the most interesting discussion of my life. All without words. I get up to leave and start filing out with the other nations when I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn around. It's Prussia again and he's still smiling. He tilts head down a different corridor than the other nations are walking down. I knew that the corridor he was indicating towards didn't lead to the break room, but the main entrance of the hotel and the exit. He looks me dead in the eyes, his hand momentarily gripping my shoulder as his eyes glint with mischief. I understand just what he is suggesting and I gladly smile and nod at him. He grins, letting go of my shoulder as he begins to walk down the hallway, stopping a few steps away to look back at me with one eyebrow raised and his head tilted slightly to the left. I nod again and begin to follow him and we both walk out of the hotel. As I step out into the world, with all its sounds and voices, I find it strange, yet oddly comforting, that all my attention is focused solely on the silent man, Gilbert Beilschmidt.

* * *

 **Hey Guys. Cazuki here with another small project. I had an hankering to write a PruCan fic today and as I was wondering what to write it came to me that why shouldn't I try a different style? Normally, we as writers take it for granted that our characters can use words to convey what they want to do and what they want to say. So, I thought, why not challenge that and create a piece solely without any words being spoken. It also gives me a chance to practice my description of facial expressions. I mean, tell me what you think in the comments, does it work? Any suggestions as to how I could more clearly clarify what they are trying to communicate? I may write more chapters, but I think this is good for now. Thank you for reading and stay tuned for more (maybe) ~ Caz.**


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